Imposter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
When you feel you don't belong you need a friend.

Submitted: November 23, 2016

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Submitted: November 23, 2016

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Imposter

 

I’m an imposter, an intruder, I don’t really belong;

in spite of the ticket it’s like I gate-crashed the throng.

 

I’m surrounded by chatter as so many friends meet,

I’m stuck in this nightmare, alone in my seat.

 

The voices get louder, an assault on my hearing,

the panic is building, an attack, it is nearing.

 

The shaking has started and I’m feeling so sick,

please just get it started, get the show going quick.

 

The noise is a crescendo, vibrating in my head,

let the sound come from microphones on stage instead.

 

And then it begins and I’m doing just fine,

I can sit here and watch and just fall in to line.

 

But then half way through there’s the intermission

putting me back to that initial position

 

of feeling like an alien, like some complete freak

as everywhere there’s people with others to speak

 

to. I’m going to pass out, I’m beginning to gasp

but there is one last chance and to it I clasp.

 

I’m going to type a text to my best friend,

and when I’ve typed it I simply press send.

 

And so soon comes an answer which I can then read

which is so much comfort on which I can feed.

 

Those words bring a calmness and now I’m okay;

I can blot out all that chatter and throw it away.

 

This friend of mine, well, he is simply the best,

making it easier for me to cope with the rest.

 

 

 

 


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